


You Look So Fine

by Sashataakheru



Series: You Look So Fine - Crossdressing!Greg fics [1]
Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Age Play, Angst, Bisexuality, Clothing, Community: seasonofkink, Complicated Relationships, Crossdressing, D/s, Daddy/boi, Dresses, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Hand Jobs, Held Down, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Biphobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Obsessions, Pegging, Polyamory, Strap-Ons, Submission, Subspace, Teasing, Whispering, consensual drunk sex, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:24:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru
Summary: Roisin surprises Greg with a second gift, meant only for his eyes, a gift he has never been brave enough to ask for before.





	You Look So Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'crossdressing' for seasonofkink round 5. My card and fills are [here](https://3evilmuses.dreamwidth.org/82357.html).
> 
> Okay. Look. Perhaps it’s a little too soon in my Taskmaster fic writing career to be throwing a 12.5k word long epic like this at you, but that’s what the muses wanted, so that’s what you’re getting. I’m trying to base all my seasonofkink fills on canon things from the show as much as I can, just because I love a challenge. So, to that end, my entire justification for this fic is that one throwaway comment from Greg (in series 6? I think? idek I can’t remember) where he said ‘I haven’t been a subservient female. Yet.’, with a suggestive wink. Which honestly felt like Greg handing me a task that said, ‘Write fic of me being sexy in a dress please’, and well, I can write anyone being sexy in a dress, so here we are. /mad skillz. It's emotionally complex, longer than strictly necessary, and a little bit angsty, but it does have a happy ending, because I just can’t be mean to my boys, I just can’t. I love them too much. <3 So yes. Enjoy an overly long Greg-in-a-dress fic. <3

She always seemed to remember the stupid things he said when he was drunk. He never quite remembered, and when she told him about them, he always looked at her, confused, trusting the accuracy of her recollection, but puzzled nonetheless at the lack of his own memories. How she remembered them all when she was drunk too, he didn't know. It had happened often enough that anything he did remember just blurred into all the other nights. Nothing was distinct, except for the fun, the way she smiled at him, and those little whispered confessions in that dark moment before dawn.  
  
But she always remembered. She particularly remembered all the stupid things he'd ever asked for, or said he'd always wanted. The things he might never ever confess to in any other situation, except for when they're drunk, they're alone, and it's 2am, and no one else could hear him speak those things he kept to himself. The things that always seemed to be given to him, seemingly out of nowhere, based on some sworn testimony that he had indeed asked for it once and just could not remember it. Things he never got rid of, because he couldn't quite discount the fact that she just loved giving him gifts but couldn't bring herself to give them to him just because she wanted to.  
  
Which was how he had acquired a pet mouse. He didn't remember that one, either, if he was being honest, but he didn't doubt her recollection. He lifted the cage and peered at the tiny creature. It was definitely cute, and he wasn't so cruel he would just give it away as if he didn't care. He would keep it, because she had given it to him, because it reminded him of her, in all its silliness. At least, it was late enough, and he was drunk and tired enough, to grin stupidly at it, and think it was the most adorable thing he'd ever been given.  
  
"So, you got a name for it yet?" Roisin asked from the sofa.  
  
Greg peered at it again, thought a moment, said the first thing that came into his head. "Maybe I'll call it Alex. It's little and timid and extremely dependent. That works for me. I can always give it to his kids to take care of if I need to. They'd enjoy that."  
  
He set the cage down and turned to her. Her whole body smiled back at him as she sat up, seemingly approving of the name. From somewhere, she pulled a plain box out and sat it on her lap. Nothing about it gave away its contents, except for the fact it had been wrapped in brown paper, which concerned him. Her gifts were not usually this drab.  
  
"I'm sure they'd love that. It's a good name. I like it. I hope Alex likes it, too." Roisin said. "I hope you're not too disappointed with a mouse for a gift, but I needed to give you something, because what I really wanted to give you I didn't think you'd want the whole world to see, so I decided to give you a mouse so I wasn't coming empty-handed. I couldn't not give a gift to the Taskmaster, could I? I wasn't risking those five points. And you did ask for the mouse, before you interject, but you also asked for this, too. But I'm not mean enough to give this to you in front of everyone else, because you wouldn't want that. So I'm giving it to you now."  
  
Greg only pretended to look concerned, unsure what she might possibly be talking about. "Alright, what have I asked for this time? Should I be worried that it's something you felt you could only give to me in private?"  
  
"Well, it's just, you've been asking for this one for years, always the same request in the exact same detail, and I guess I just felt this was one thing you really did want, but could never bring yourself to ask for. So I bought it for you," Roisin said, as if that was that.  
  
That made him pause. Something stirred in the back of his mind, but he dared not give it attention. There was one thing he could think of that might match that description, but he'd never told anyone about that side of him, he'd never let anyone know that he wanted to - I mean, there was no way he could have just told her about it, like he told her everything else, was there? No, it can't have been that. He wouldn't have dared. Not even Alex knew that he- No. He would take that secret to the grave.  
  
"Oh, I really hope it isn't what I think it is."  
  
Roisin looked annoyed. "Do you seriously not know how open you get when you're pissed? Everything spills out. If you don't want people knowing your secrets, you'd better stop drinking. And it's not like I ever judge you, either. You like what you like, yeah? It don't matter to me. You just gotta be okay with yourself. We've all got our weird kinks, yeah? Just be glad I care enough to make sure there's no one else around when you start rambling on about your deepest desires. I'm the only one who ever heard them, I promise."  
  
"Okay, now I'm worried. What on earth did I tell you, clearly so often you memorised it?" Greg asked.  
  
"You gotta understand, Greg, it was the way you said it, that's what made me remember it. That's what made me realise how much this meant to you. There was just this deep sadness in your eyes, like you really wanted to, but it took all your willpower to never give in to it. And it's alright, I get it, yeah? The world teaches you not to want that sort of thing, that it's not manly, but I'm not the world, and I just want you to be happy. Even if it's just for a moment, just here, just for tonight," Roisin said. She patted the seat, asking him to join her.  
  
Greg sat down next to her, beginning to realise what she was talking about. The memories were hazy, but that didn't matter. In his heart, he knew exactly what she was talking about, and it scared him. For someone, anyone, even her, to find out about this, it was just-  
  
"Did you really buy the dress?" he murmured, barely able to speak it aloud, as if that might make it real, as if it might then be overheard and he'd be mocked for it.  
  
Roisin took his hand, and he flinched at her touch for the first time and pulled away, as if waiting for the rejection to come, as if she hadn't said anything kind to him at all. That this was some elaborate set-up and he was about to be humiliated. He wasn't sure he could take that from her. Suddenly, he felt very sober indeed. He wondered idly if this was how Alex liked feeling when he asked Greg to humiliate him, but this was not turning him on. Instead, it was tying knots in his stomach. He didn't like this feeling at all.  
  
She reached for his hand again, and this time, he didn't pull away, though he actually managed to look much smaller than he was as his shoulders slumped and he gazed absently at the ground. She'd never seen him like this before, but she had been prepared for it when she decided to bring this gift for him. It was a risk she was willing to take because of how happy it would make him, and that was what she cared about.  
  
"Don't, alright? It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm not here to hurt you. You know me. I'd never hurt you. I just want you to be happy, yeah? That's why I bought the dress. I had it made special, just for you, just how you wanted it. I know, I know, it's not something you'd ever ask for, and I almost didn't bring it because I wasn't sure you'd appreciate me giving it to you like that, you know, because I was afraid you might get like this, but I just couldn't bear those sad eyes one more time. I just felt like there was a reason you kept telling me you wanted it, that you really wanted me to know about this, that it was important, because you never asked for things more than once, except for this dress. Don't think I never noticed how well you take care of my clothes either, when I just threw them all over the place. I've never dated a man who cares as much for my clothes as you do. I figured it was because of the dress. Like, even if you couldn't wear my things, you still took great care of them. You still do. I don't know if you were ever conscious of doing that, but I always notice, and I always appreciate it. You don't have to be scared about this. You clearly want it and denying yourself is only going to keep making you miserable. Even if I'm the only one who ever gets to see you like this, it's alright. You're okay. You're allowed to want to be beautiful. Don't let anyone ever say you can't."  
  
He didn't speak for a long time, letting all her words sink in. In spite of how much he wanted the dress, he wasn't sure he was ready to actually see it, even though, if it was the dress he was thinking of, he'd dreamed of it for twenty years, never more than a fantasy in his head for someone braver than he to make real. Dresses were for the skinny queer boys, the little waifs and twinks and fairies who could get away with wearing shit like that and make it look good. They weren't for someone like him, who was just too big. Too masculine. Too fat. Too old. Too … everything. But it didn't stop him wanting it.  
  
He still didn't really know why. Women's clothes, sure, he'd always fancied them, but he'd realised very quickly that was never going to happen, not for him. It was easy enough to live with because he was never going to just get clothes to wear like that, just off the rack, like any other woman could, so it always felt like an impossible dream. But then that dress came into his head, and then it became an obsession, only one that he'd never be rid of, because to make it real, to bring it to life, that would make all of this real in a way that was impossible to make un-real by pretending it wasn't something he wanted. Without the clothes, without _that dress_ , it wasn't real. There was nothing he could do about it. It was an excuse he used so often to pretend he didn't care.  
  
But he did care. He cared a lot. She was right, he had taken great care of her clothes that still now were put away in their proper place in the spare room. He hadn't realised she'd even noticed it, because she never said anything about it. It had started while they'd been apart, and he'd just missed her being there. He'd never seen himself as the kind of man who would obsess over the scent of his lover's clothes, but there he was, breathing in her scent, and for a moment, feeling that soft material on his skin, against his face. Sure, he'd never fit into her clothes, but that wasn't the point. There were always some there, between partners, between flats, between everything. He'd got so used to her things being there - clothes, shoes, books, make-up, her favourite shampoo, hell, even their sex toys - that he sometimes couldn't quite work out exactly how long they'd lived together as a couple in between all the other months and years of not quite and something else. She was just always there, even when she wasn't.  
  
He never let himself obsess over her clothes though. He never treated them as sexual objects; that's what the toys were for, locked away in a box at the bottom of his wardrobe. He treated her clothes as sacred, as a way of caring for her when she hadn't got time to, or had been away, or just needed some time to rest, or had fallen asleep drunk on the sofa. He cared for Alex's clothes in a similar way now, since he also half-lived here with him, though it wasn't for the same purpose. What he loved about caring for Roisin's clothes was being able to feel the fabrics and add more texture to his fantasies about the dress. To begin to really feel how it would look and flow and sit on his body. Once or twice, after a few drinks, in the quiet light of early morning, he played around with her make-up, trying to see if that would satisfy him in the same way the dress did. He wasn't very good at it, but he did manage to put some shadow on his eyes, and he stared at his face, trying to decide if he looked any different. He wasn't sure, but then he wasn't sure if that was what he even wanted, to look like a woman.  
  
Was that the same as being a woman? What did it mean for him if he wanted to dress like one? He was pretty sure he wasn't transgender, he wasn't a woman, he just… really wanted to wear that dress, whatever that meant for him, and who he was inside. He'd spent so long imagining what that fabric would feel like against his skin. How it would feel to have that impossibly long skirt sitting so softly against him, covering his legs completely, to feel that braid against his shoulders, to see how it would make him look. To see if it would soften any of him at all, to make people not be afraid of him just because he was so much larger than everyone else. He didn't want to frighten people, not like that, not when he didn't want to. Intimidating people without even trying had come in handy, he would never deny that it definitely had its uses and he would always exploit it when necessary, but being the hard man just wasn't really him. But then, neither was being the gentle giant. The world expected him to be one or the other, not somewhere else in between.  
  
But that seemed to be his whole life, really, existing on a spectrum when the world saw everything in binary opposites. He often felt he didn't fit anywhere, because trying to be what everyone wanted him to be just didn't work and only led to disappointment and unhappiness. He was too tall, he was too soft, he wasn't mean enough, he wasn't gentle enough, he was too queer, he was too straight, he wasn't queer enough, he cared too much. Sometimes he wondered if he should've just picked a side long ago when he had a chance, because there was no room for bisexual men anywhere, and he hated it. But the rebel in him refused, even if it meant being alone, because it was easier than dealing with rejection and outright hatred. At least he was true to himself.  
  
Except when it came to dresses, and how much he wanted to wear one. And there it was, the dress he'd been dreaming of, sitting in a box in front of him, and he felt paralysed. He'd told people he was bi before, though only after he left teaching and finally felt he could talk about it openly, but he'd never confessed to this, to the dresses, and he wasn't sure he was brave enough to own it the way he owned his sexuality. He didn't care now, not about that. But he cared very deeply about this, and what it would mean if he was seen like that, as a man in a dress. At least he could blend in if he dated women. He couldn't blend in if he went outside wearing a dress. It meant being visibly queer in a way he wasn't comfortable with. He didn't have that kind of flamboyance in him, did he? He didn't think so.  
  
Roisin set the box down and cuddled up beside him. "If it helps, I had one made for me, in case you didn't want to feel weird wearing a dress on your own. But we don't have to do this tonight. You don't have to open it now. I don't want you to open it if you're not ready for it. I can see this is so hard for you. You're not normally this quiet."  
  
"You don't understand, it's just-"  
  
Greg tried to explain, but words failed him. He didn't know how to explain it, and he didn't feel drunk enough to just spill his guts like he usually would. He sat back, frustrated, drained the rest of his beer as if that might help, even though it didn't.  
  
She wrapped an arm around him and snuggled beside him, hoping it was helping him feel safe and loved. She watched him stare at the box, almost open it at least three times, before he handed it back to her.  
  
"No, you open it. I can't."  
  
"You sure? I wouldn't want to take that moment away from you. You open it in your own time. It doesn't need to be now. It doesn't need to be tonight. It can wait till you're ready," Roisin said.  
  
"Roisin, please, you don't understand. I never thought it would ever be real. I just - I need a moment."  
  
Roisin backed off, and let the silence fill the air. She left the box on the coffee table and sat back in the sofa, watching him.  
  
It took a while. She didn't rush him. She touched him, encouraged him, when he was willing to accept it, and brought more drinks when he asked for them. She talked, when he was willing to be distracted, and kept silence when he needed to think. Maybe he wouldn't open it tonight, but that didn't matter. He had to do this in his own time.  
  
Greg was sure he'd never have accepted this gift from anyone else because he was sure no one else would have been as supportive as Roisin was. They would mock him, they wouldn't bother making it to fit him, they would just tease him and make fun of him and he would hate them for it. But Roisin wasn't like that. She cared. Every now and then, she took his hand, sometimes kissed it softly, told him filthy drinking stories to make him laugh, and never moved from his side, unless they needed more drinks. All the while he stared at that box, wanting so badly to open it, but not sure he was ready for what it might unleash, as if it was Pandora's box itself sitting before him that would unleash all the evils upon the world if he ever opened it.  
  
But it wasn't Pandora's box, it was just a dress - _his dress_ \- in a box. A dream had become tangible, had become real, and he hadn't been prepared for it. He didn't doubt the dress was in there. He knew it was. She wouldn't go to such lengths if there wasn't a dress in there. It was the single most valuable and heartfelt gift he'd ever been given. All he needed to do was open the box, and put on the dress, and give life to this part of himself he'd hidden away for so long.  
  
It was the vodka that did it in the end. That gave him the courage he needed to open it. He touched the box reverently, almost afraid of it, before finally, he removed the lid. He was not disappointed by what he saw.  
  
"Oh, Roisin," were the only words Greg could find, his voice soft and filled with awe and gratitude. Even folded up, it looked beautiful, more beautiful than he could ever have imagined. He dared to touch it, to feel that soft silken fabric for the first time, and then pulled his hand away, as if afraid he might ruin it.  
  
She smiled as his face lit up with amazement and joy. "So, do you like it? I hope I remembered all the details correctly. And before you ask, Alex gave me your measurements. It should fit you perfectly."  
  
Her words had faded into the background. All he could focus on was this dress, this one sacred thing he had wanted for so long, but never imagined he would ever see. He touched the purple satin, caressed it with his fingers, lifted it gently out of the box and watched how beautifully it flowed. He stood, carefully, watching how it draped to the floor, as if he needed to see that it was indeed long enough for him to wear. He closed his eyes, held it against his body gently, reverently brought the material up to touch his face, barely beginning to imagine how wonderful it would be to wear, to feel that beautiful material against his skin, to see himself like this, finally, in something made to fit him. Finally, it was real, and whatever fear he'd had before had vanished as soon as he'd touched it, given up for desire and longing. The aching hole he'd wilfully ignored all these years finally burst forth, filled with love, rather than denial.  
  
"I have no idea how I would even begin to repay you for this. This is just - you remembered all the little details. All of them. It's perfect," he said, looking over the whole dress.  
  
"Would you try it on for me? I want to see you happy, just for a moment. I want to see this side of you that clearly you always wanted to tell me about, but never quite felt brave enough to share," she said.  
  
"Alright, but you might need to help me. I've never worn a dress before," he said.  
  
"It's Greg-proof. Trust me. You go and put it on, I don't want to spoil that first moment for you. Call me if you need me, yeah?" she said.  
  
With a little more encouragement, and a little more alcohol to steady his nerves, he took the dress and carried it to his room to change. Laying out on his bed, its full beauty was there for him to see, and he breathed in, unable to really believe it was real until he touched it again, running his hand across the fabric. He almost didn't want to wear it, to spoil it, but his desire to wear it was too much. He stripped down to nothing, then carefully stepped into the dress, slowly pulling it up his body. It did indeed fit perfectly, and the sensation of that fabric against his skin made him shiver.  
  
He spent a long time just running his hands down his body, convincing himself it was real. The sensations felt amazing, even though he was just running his fingers gently over his skin. He was a little disappointed he didn't have any breasts to fill it with, but it hadn't been made for that, so it sat against his chest perfectly. Part of him wanted to see what he would look like with breasts, but then he ran his handover his chest and decided perhaps he liked it better this way. He did like breasts very much, but he'd never wanted them on himself.  
  
He lay back on his bed and kicked his legs up, watching how the fabric slipped down his legs. He would never be an elegant lady, but that wasn't the point. His dreams of this dress had been filled with arousal, of being found sexy and desirable dressed like this, of not being a threat, of being wanted and loved and cared for. And now, for a moment, he wasn't sure he wanted to be aroused, because he didn't want to ruin the fabric now that he had it. It didn't stop his cock getting hard though, every time the fabric moved. Stroking himself through the fabric didn't help either, but shit did it feel amazing.  
  
He rolled over on the bed and saw Roisin standing in the doorway, wearing the same dress, but made to fit her instead. He had to admit it looked a lot better on her, because at least she had breasts, and that dress showed them off very well indeed. He smiled and gestured her over, long past feeling ashamed to be aroused in her company, not when she looked that sexy.  
  
"So, how is it? How does it feel?" Roisin asked, lying down beside him.  
  
"It's the most wonderful thing in the world, Roisin. Thank you. I don't know if I can ever say thank you enough for this. It feels amazing," Greg said.  
  
"You're happy then? You're not scared anymore?" Roisin said.  
  
"I'm very happy. You've made me very happy, Roisin. I can't tell you how much it means to me, that you listened, and that you cared enough to do this for me. Most wouldn't. That's why I still love you. You understand me," Greg said.  
  
"As long as you're happy, that's enough for me. Can I kiss you? Cos you look fabulous in that dress, and I just wanna kiss you right now and love you properly," Roisin said.  
  
"Yeah, alright. Go on, then," Greg said.  
  
She pulled him into a kiss, and it didn't take long for their hands to start wandering, falling back into old habits again. Before they could get much further though, Roisin sat up, looking at him as if she'd just had the most amazing idea.  
  
"Hey, do you want me to doll you up? I brought a few other things, if you wanted to see yourself properly dressed up. I can do your face, make you look all beautiful, yeah? Wanna see what you'd look like as a woman?"  
  
Greg thought about it for a moment. "You really planned this out, didn't you?"  
  
"I had no plan, except let you decide. I really wasn't sure what you were going to want to do or what you'd even feel comfortable doing, so I kinda just brought everything. I mean, half of it was here anyway, but I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed, just in case. We were either going to spend the night fucking in dresses and getting pissed, or we'd go out on the balcony and gaze up at the sky while you figured out what you wanted to do. Everyone has the right to feel beautiful, and if that means doing your face up and making you look pretty, so be it. Maybe it'll help," Roisin said.  
  
"Well, if you can make this face look even a little bit feminine, I'll be very impressed with you," Greg said.  
  
"Don't worry, you won't recognise yourself by the time I'm done," Roisin said, confident.  
  
"Then you'd better get to work."  
  
"With pleasure. I'll be right back, love, don't you go anywhere."  
  
She left him then with a soft peck on his cheek and went to get all the things she needed. Greg sat up and watched her go and wondered, not for the first time, why they hadn't made a thing of, well, whatever it was they had together. She knew him better than anyone else, somehow, and he adored her company. Ever since they'd first met, she'd spent half her life at his flat, whether it was for catching up after gigs, hanging out with friends, or just whiling away the evening together because they had nothing to do for once. Sometimes, she'd move in for a while. Sometimes, he didn't see her because he was away, or she was seeing someone else, or he'd found someone to date, or she was working. But they always found each other, no matter what. Not quite friends with benefits, not quite lovers, not quite drinking buddies, not quite anything except Greg and Roisin.  
  
It wasn't like they hadn't given it a go for a while, either, trying to make something formal out of what they had. But work meant they never quite managed to find the energy to commit to it, and it wasn't like they did anything different as a couple that they did before as friends except for more regular sex, so they let it go, with a billion complications that never quite resolved themselves into anything except for drunken kisses and occasionally sleeping together when they were lonely and single. Greg really only noticed the shift because there was somehow less of her stuff around. Somehow, their friendship seemed unbreakable, no matter how complicated they happened to make it.  
  
Roisin returned, breaking him out of his thoughts, as she joined him on the bed with what looked like a shoebox, some make-up, and a wig. He was pleasantly surprised at how much effort she'd gone to for him. She hadn't just wanted to give him the dress. She'd wanted to do everything, to do it properly, to make him look beautiful and amazing and loved. It made him love her even more than he already did.  
  
"Alright, sit still now. I gotta do your face first, because it has to be done right. Then I'll do the rest," Roisin said.  
  
"You do what you have to. I'm not going anywhere," Greg said.  
  
Greg submitted to her fussing as she finished off his outfit. He hadn't expected it to feel as loving and as validating as it did, but that was how she did it. She explained everything she did to him, and got him to pick out colours, and showed him how he looked as she went, making sure he was still alright with it. It felt very different to the stage make-up he was used to, which surprised him. She also hadn't made him look like a drag queen, which was his other fear. Somehow, she'd managed to make him look younger, though he wasn't sure how he felt about that.  
  
The white-blonde wig fell long down his shoulders, tickling his bare skin. He wasn't sure about the colour, or the style, but she assured him it suited him. He almost didn't accept the shoes, because he was sure he wouldn't actually be able to stand in them without his head going through the ceiling, which rather defeated the purpose of wearing them, but he made do with admiring how they looked as she did his make-up, spending a long time working on his face with brushes and sponges and all sorts of other things he was only dimly aware of, because she had a way of touching him with such softness, and such care, and such intimacy, that it sent shivers down his spine. Her final touch was some stick-on nails in a matching purple, and a few pieces of jewellery she thought would go well with it.  
  
"There you go, you're done. I'll go grab a mirror, don't want you standing in those heels, now, you'll wreck your neck," Roisin said, clambering off the bed.  
  
For a moment, he wished he was shorter, so he could feel how it would be to stand in those heels, but it wasn't to be, at least, not here. He needed a castle, or a Georgian townhouse. Something with proper Greg-height ceilings. Not the hobbit ceilings everyone else had. Then he could stand in his heels, and not bash his head at all.  
  
He felt a small twinge of nerves as Roisin produced a full-length mirror from, well, somewhere - he assumed it was just another thing of hers she'd never moved out - and rested it against the wall in front of him, allowing him to see himself for the first time. She sat down beside him and took his hand in hers.  
  
"There you are, love. You look gorgeous," Roisin said, admiring her work.  
  
And he did. He could see that clearly enough. She'd done his make-up perfectly, and he almost couldn't believe it was his face he was looking at. Sure, if he'd wanted to do this properly, he'd have got rid of all the body hair, but he wasn't willing to commit to that just yet. He wasn't sure he ever would. People would notice that, and they'd ask why, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to cope with that sort of scrutiny. And yet, somehow, it all managed to work, hair or no hair. He didn't look like a man in a dress. She had managed to make him look weirdly androgynous, which he felt was a particularly amazing achievement, given how not androgynous he usually looked. That made him feel good, that he could still pass as visibly queer if he really wanted to. He wasn't sure if he would ever take that step, but seeing himself like this helped rewrite the narrative in his head that he wasn't queer enough.  
  
He was aware of her hand slowly pushing the skirt up, knowing what she wanted. He didn't stop her. She was gentle and the sensation of the fabric moving just made him hard, particularly coupled with her hand on his thigh. He always loved her touch. He'd never say no to her if she wanted it. He hadn't planned to have sex with her tonight, but it had always been a possibility, because sometimes that's just how the night went when they were alone together. Sometimes, they just needed each other, and tonight was one of those nights.  
  
"Would you ever let me fuck you dressed up like this? Because I would, you know. I really would," Roisin said. "I mean, I'd fuck you anyway because I love you, but I particularly love the dress on you and I want to make love to you as a woman. Also, that colour really suits you. You look amazing. Like, if you think I never fantasised about you in that dress, you're mistaken, because I totally did. I knew you'd look amazing."  
  
"Of course, I'd let you fuck me. I'm not going to stop you. But I'm not the one you need permission from. You gotta ask Alex first. I'm sure he'll say yes, though. I mean, don't tell him about the dress because he's not ready to find out about that yet, but feel free to ask for a fuck. He's got this weird kink where he likes me fucking other people without him being there. Drives him mad, it does, but I don't mind, because it makes him cry and he just looks so beautiful when he cries. He gets me to tie him up and gag him and hide him away close by so he can hear everything and god, it's beautiful," Greg said, unsure he wasn't giving away more information than was strictly necessary about their sex life, but he figured Alex would kink on that too, if Roisin now knew he got off on that sort of thing. That boy did love being humiliated. Maybe he would tell him about it later and see if he could make him cry.  
  
"It's a good thing you two are so good together, or I'd think you'd gone a bit weird, Greg. You'd better call him, then, and let me listen, I wanna hear his voice when you tell him you wanna fuck me," Roisin said.  
  
Greg had to laugh at that, knowing he would enjoy that too. He could just imagine Alex standing in the middle of some crowded pub while Roisin asks for a fuck, probably as loudly and as obnoxiously as she could, because she was not subtle about these things.  
  
"You just listen for his voice, it'll switch when I ask him that. He just shifts into subspace instantly. You can really hear it when he speaks. One moment, he's just a normal guy, the next he's bowing at my feet. It's really great," Greg said.  
  
"Oh, I know, I've seen you two together during tapings. He shifts. You can really see it, like he's not subtle about it at all. You can tell just by looking at him. I dunno how you managed that. That's pretty impressive," Roisin said.  
  
"I think it's just him, you know? I never asked him to do that, it's just how he is, I think. It's not like this is a full-time thing for us anyway, but I don't have a family life to worry about, he does. So perhaps it's just easier for him that way. But I do love being able to trigger it instantly. I have a lot of fun with that," Greg said.  
  
"Oh, I know you do, you're that kind of man. You'll have to teach me how to trigger it, because I'd love to fuck with him too, if you'll let me," Roisin said. "Go on, get your phone, so I can hear this adorable voice shift for myself."  
  
"Alright, alright, give me a minute. Where the fuck did I put it? I can't even remember now." He went to stand and was reminded of the heels he was now wearing and sat down again. "You'd better get it. I'm not taking these fucking heels off now."  
  
"You wouldn't say that if you'd been wearing them for six hours, trust me. At least give me some idea of where to look," Roisin said.  
  
"I dunno. Jacket maybe. I'll just lie back here and think about Alex missing out on all this fun," Greg said, lying back on the bed while Roisin got up and started searching.  
  
"I mean, if you know his number, I'll get mine," Roisin said, checking the clothes he'd left strewn across the floor.  
  
"Not off the top of my head," he lied. "It'll be there somewhere though."  
  
"Aha! Found it. There you go, call your boyfriend so we can make him jealous," Roisin said, throwing it on the bed for him.  
  
Greg picked it up and wasted no time calling Alex, hoping he would answer. He smiled as he picked up and put it on speaker so Roisin could hear.  
  
"Greg, hi, everything alright?" Alex asked. "I just got home if you need me to come over, I-"  
  
"Nah, mate, everything's fine over here. We've been having a lovely time, haven't we, Roisin? But I did want to ask you something, I-"  
  
Roisin interrupted before he could finish. "Hey, Alex, can I fuck your boyfriend?"  
  
"Uh? Oh, Roisin, you're still there, I see, good, I, uh… I mean, I guess I don't…mind if you…" Alex trailed off, and Greg could hear how his voice switched mid-sentence from that of his friend to that of his submissive, as if he understood the situation and what role he was being asked to play as he parsed the question she'd asked.  
  
Roisin laughed. "Oh, man, you said his voice would change, and it really did! I can tell when you're being submissive, Alex, I can hear it! I can even see it when you're sat beside him on your thrones at tapings. You really don't care who knows, do you?"  
  
"I-It's not - like that, Roisin, it's not - we're not-" Alex managed to say.  
  
"Yeah, it is like that, I can see it. Now, answer my question: can I fuck your boyfriend? Only he's really gagging for it, and I'd hate to leave him like hanging. I'll take care of him tonight. You can just imagine what we get up to while you're at home, yeah? Maybe we'll send you some pictures," Roisin teased.  
  
"Well, maybe we'll keep those pictures to ourselves because I don't think you deserve to see them, do you? But god, she's horny tonight, Alex. You don't mind, do you, love? Only, I think she might want me to fuck her on the balcony, or maybe on your little bed, or maybe I'll tie her up and fuck her on the kitchen bench. What do you think?" Greg said, waiting for Alex to say yes.  
  
There was silence then, and Greg heard him swallow, imagining how much he might be blushing at that moment. Roisin went to speak, but Greg pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. He could just imagine how Alex was standing, how his shoulders would be just a little slumped, and his head lowered just a little, as he listened to his master's request, presumably, alone in the middle of his driveway.  
  
"Alex? Can I fuck her for you on your little bed? Can I make her scream and cry for you? Can I make her beg for you? Can I bind her hands and eat her out for you? So that when I see you again, I can do all the same things to you?" Greg asked again, his voice a soft murmur meant to tease Alex as much as it was meant to turn him on.  
  
"N-no, yes, of course I don't mind. You-you enjoy yourself, sir. I-I'll be here, if you need me," Alex said, sounding a lot more flustered than Greg expected.  
  
Greg had to contain his laughter, and almost wanted to keep on teasing him, to describe all the things he would do to Roisin to really humiliate him before he'd even walked through his front door, but Roisin had slipped her hand under his dress and was squeezing his cock, and it completely pushed the thought from his mind.  
  
"Oh, we'll enjoy ourselves very much, I can promise you that. I'm sorry you're not here, but I wouldn't want to tear you away from your family, since you just got home. Now, you go to bed like a good little boy, and I'll see you later, yeah?"  
  
"Yes, of course, I'll - talk to you later," Alex said.  
  
"Bye, Alex! I'll fuck him good for you, love, so you can cry about it later," Roisin said with a laugh, hanging up before Alex - or Greg - could respond.  
  
"Ooh, you are a naughty girl, Roisin," Greg said, bringing her into a kiss.  
  
"Just the way you like me. Now I get to have you dressed as a gorgeous lady, and no one else will ever fuck you like this. Just me. Now, do you want me to ride you like a demon, or pin you down and fuck you hard like the woman you are?" Roisin said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
  
"Ooh, choices, choices. I'm assuming that means you did get your cock out. What kind of evening did you even think this would turn into, Roisin? Jesus Christ," Greg said, impressed by, well, everything she'd done.  
  
"I planned for everything, like I said. When was the last time you got properly fucked anyway? I bet Alex doesn't fuck you properly. You wouldn't let him fuck you, I bet. Only I get to fuck you, and I think I need to take you down a notch before all that power goes to your head," Roisin said.  
  
"I mean, it has been a while, you're right. It's not that I wouldn't let Alex fuck me, he just won't. He's not interested in that. But man, now I'm in the mood for it, so you'd better get on with it. I think I need you to fuck me in this dress. Go on, take me for all I'm worth, so at least my cock can fuck the dress instead," Greg said.  
  
"On your front, then, I'll get you ready. Feel free to harden up, if you want. I know you'd rather fuck that dress than me anyway, you pervert," Roisin teased.  
  
She gave him one more kiss and left him to it. He pulled the dress up past his waist and rolled onto his stomach, not wanting to get the dress dirty. He was getting hard just thinking about what was to come. It had been a while since she'd fucked him, rather than the other way around, but he felt it only fitting since he was in a dress. It felt right to him, even if there was a brief moment where he wondered if that really was the right way to think about it, because he wasn't a bastard who thought women were beneath him. But man, this dress was just doing his head in, and the thought of her fucking him while he was wearing it was incredibly arousing. He gathered the material under him as he waited for her to return so he could feel it against his skin as she moved behind him. He moved against the bed, eager to get started, as his cock twitched and got hard from all the teasing.  
  
She wasn't gone for long, and soon she was sat between his legs as she lubed him up and prepared him. She drew it out, teasing him with her hands as she got him ready, and he squirmed at her touch, eager to feel her inside him. He knew the moment she slowly began pushing inside him, because he felt it, and he also felt her hands slam down on his back, pushing him down into the bed. It wasn't something he always got off on, but to have her pin him down, to make him lie there and take it, _god_ , that was something else, and he was really kinking on it in that moment as she began to fuck him.  
  
"Don't you fucking move, yeah? Lemme do this for you. Lemme show you how it's done," Roisin said.  
  
"Oh, yes, please. I need you so much right now," Greg drawled, moving with her.  
  
"You might be lord and master on the telly, but I'm your master now," Roisin said, putting on her best dominatrix voice as she pushed in as far as she knew she could go. Then she smiled. "Hey, maybe that's what we are. Maybe I'm your master, because you always come back to me. I own you."  
  
Greg shivered at the thought, definitely finding it an attractive proposal. "I'd like to see you try, Roisin. I'm not the submissive type, not like Alex. You'd have to fight me for it."  
  
"That's part of the challenge, isn't it? To beat you into submission until you're mine and no one else's," Roisin said, slowly pulling out as they both got used to the movements. "Maybe I'll just draw this out all night, and only let you come once the sun's up. Think you could last that long?"  
  
"Probably not, but don't let that stop you trying. I just bet you'll be asleep in an hour, so maybe hurry it up. It is very late, you know," Greg said.  
  
"Well past your bedtime, hey, old man? How sweet. I'd better get on with it then, or you'll be falling asleep before I'm done," Roisin said, pointedly beginning to push inside him again.  
  
Greg almost had a response lined up, but she was moving faster, and god, he was aroused. Every movement, once she began thrusting, turned him on, as did his dress moving against his skin and her dress moving against his legs. That fabric was just divine and he loved being bound by it, to have it wrapped so closely to his body, like it was meant to be there. He really began to feel drunk the more she fucked him, as if all the alcohol was finally catching up to him. Comfortably, happily, warmly drunk, and so turned on it hurt, _god_ , and all because of that dress. He felt amazing. There was a moment where she reached underneath him to grab his cock, "Oh, god," and he jerked against her, not sure how much longer he could last.  
  
What pushed him over the line was when she grasped part of the dress that sat gathered on his back and rubbed his back with it, reminding him that he was indeed wearing _that dress_ , and he held the fabric gathered around his chest close in his arms and let go as she finished him off with a hand wrapped in her own dress, the touch of the fabric enough to make him come.  
  
A deep sense of bliss fell over him then, and he lay there utterly content as she lingered just for a while, just how he liked it, as she finished herself off. He loved feeling that, too, how she held him close and thrust just enough to get off, making his own pleasure last just that little bit longer before she slowly pulled out and moved away to clean up.  
  
She lay on top of him afterwards, letting her own cock sit against his back as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. He could tell she was tired, but then so was he, now that they were fucked and lying down together. He didn't want to move at all for at least an hour, assuming he didn't fall asleep first.  
  
"I'd forgotten how much fun that was," Roisin breathed. "Fuck, I love you."  
  
"I mean, it's not that I don't love Alex, because I do, I really love that boy, but fuck, I really miss you sometimes," Greg murmured.  
  
"Oh, I'd never replace Alex, but it's nice to know you miss me. Maybe invite me around some time when he's here and you can fuck me again, since he seems so keen on watching. And, I dunno, maybe I'll get to fuck you in your dress again," Roisin said.  
  
"Oh, he's never seeing me in this dress, that's not what he wants from me. He's got a wife for that, if that's what he wants," Greg said.  
  
"Are you ever gonna tell him though? He doesn't have to want that from you, but he deserves to know. He won't like being lied to about this," Roisin said, sounding more awake than he'd like. He wasn't interested in serious conversation right then.  
  
"Just - leave it, Roisin. That's my problem, not yours," Greg said, gently pushing her off him as he moved to the edge of the bed and sat up, facing away from her.  
  
"I didn't say it was my problem, but don't fuck this up with him, Greg. He's good for you. He adores you. Have some fucking sense and tell him. I don't want to see you two breaking up all over the papers because you couldn't bear to tell him you love wearing dresses. He's clearly got weird kinks of his own, why would he judge you for this one?" Roisin said.  
  
Greg didn't say anything, because he knew she was right. But it just brought it all back to him when he thought about telling Alex. All the fear of being judged, of being mocked and laughed at, he just couldn't shake it from his mind, even if he didn't think Alex would laugh at him. It didn't matter. All those moments came back to him, where he knew he was different, where he'd tried to fit in only to be rejected instead, where he had his attempts at courtship thrown back in his face, where he was reminded he didn't have a place, not really. That he didn't exist, that he was dirty and wrong, that he should be killed, that he was riddled with disease and deserved all the shit the world threw at him. All the slurs, all the taunts, all the threats of violence he heard, all trying to make him be someone he wasn't. Before he got too big to fight, he was sure if he'd dared to wear a dress anywhere, he'd have been beaten up. Which is why he never dared. Even now, when he could win any fight they wanted to pick with him, the spectre of it frightened him still. He'd slept with men before, but Alex was the first he'd wanted a relationship with. He felt too old to be doing this for the first time. He distracted himself by taking the shoes off and straightening the dress, letting the fabric fall down his body again. He almost took it off, but seeing it made him smile. For a moment, he pushed all that fear aside, because he finally had the dress he'd been dreaming of. But he still had to tell Alex.  
  
Roisin came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, leaning against his shoulder. "Sorry, Greg, I'm not trying to pressure you, but it is important. Just think about it, yeah? For me? He's such a sweet boy. Don't go breaking his heart like this. I don't want to see you two falling apart. You're just too good together. Promise me you'll think about it."  
  
He covered her hands in his, appreciating her presence. "Yeah, I promise. I'll think about it. I do want to tell him, I just need some time to get comfortable with it first."  
  
"Just don't wait too long, or you really will be keeping secrets from him, and he won't like that. He'll hate the lies more than the dresses, trust me on this one. I know his type. Promise me you'll tell him soon," Roisin said.  
  
"I will, I promise. You're right. He needs to know. But give me a chance to find the right words, or it'll just end up scaring him. I don't want him to misunderstand me," Greg said.  
  
"You'll find the right words, I know you will. And in the meantime, if you ever want me to come and do your face again, just call me, yeah? I wanna make you look beautiful again," Roisin said.  
  
"Of course, I'd love that," Greg said.  
  
"Yeah! I'll make you all pretty, real pretty, then I can fuck you again, just like a lady," Roisin drawled, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek as she hugged him tighter.  
  
"That would be amazing," Greg said, though he could hear how tired she sounded, and suspected she was falling asleep behind him, leaning against his shoulder.  
  
He was tired himself, now that he was still, and silent, and everything was over. He gently shifted Roisin, took off her dress so she didn't ruin it, and lay her down, putting her to bed before he went to clean his face and think. It was strange, watching his pretty face disappear, but he couldn't help smiling, because it had been everything he could ever have wanted, and it was more than he could ever have dreamed of. And now this beautiful dress was his, and no one could take that away from him. Even if only he and Roisin ever saw it, that was enough. Everything now felt complete. Sure, he would have to tell Alex eventually, but that didn't have to be now, did it? No, Alex could wait until he knew how to explain it, because telling him about it scared him, even though he was sure Alex wouldn't judge him for it. Besides, he was meant to be Alex's Daddy, the one he looked to for guidance and strength. Alex hadn't asked for a man in a dress.  
  
Leaving his thoughts behind, he left her to sleep and idly gathered up bottles and glasses in between twirling around, just to see how the skirt moved. The shimmer of the fabric caught the low light, and shone in interesting ways as he moved, and he loved seeing how it moved with his body too. Out of curiosity, he went over to the balcony, and watched how the light danced off the fabric. Then, because it was so late, and the risk of being seen was so low, he went out and twirled around, giving himself a moment of pure joy that only the night would ever see. If he'd been alone, he'd have let out a cry of happiness, but he didn't want to wake Roisin. He gazed out at the bright city fighting against the darkness, feeling happier than he'd ever felt before. Not even the cool air bothered him, nor the sound of cars on the street beneath him. This moment was his alone, and he would cherish it always.  
  
As he came back inside, his joy was overridden by the sight of Alex standing there in the darkness by the door, clearly wondering what was going on.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing here, Alex? I thought I told you to go to bed?" Greg said, refusing to raise his voice in the silence, hoping his fear wasn't showing through.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Greg, I must have - misunderstood that call. Are … are you wearing a dress?" Alex said, taking a tentative step forward.  
  
"Yeah, I am, what's it to you? Roisin got it for me. You got a problem with that?" Greg said, knowing he was being slightly more defensive than he wanted to be, but he didn't know how else to react, not when Alex was clearly in subspace and wanting his master.  
  
"Oh, I-no, it's fine, I-I didn't know you liked that. I'm sorry. Do you want me to go? I feel like I'm intruding," Alex said.  
  
Greg waved off his concerns and gestured for him to come in. "No, no, you can stay. Come in, I'm not mad you're here. Sorry I didn't tell you about the dresses, but I never had any to wear before, so I didn't think I needed to tell you about it. I didn't know she was going to bring it tonight. I didn't have time to think of what to do. And since I wasn't expecting to see you tonight, you've caught me off-guard. I hadn't wanted you to see me like this. That hadn't been part of the plan, but I'm sorry. I never wanted you to find out like this. You're not mad, are you? Only Roisin ever knew about this," Greg said, hoping Alex would be okay with it.  
  
"I'm not mad about the dresses, Greg. But seriously, you were never going to tell me at all about this, even after Roisin gave you the dress? And the only reason I know is because I came over thinking you needed me? In what way is that okay, Greg? I thought we'd been open with each other right from the beginning," Alex said, clearly not in subspace anymore.  
  
"No, you misunderstood me. I _was_ planning to tell you, just not like this. Just - come here. Sit with me. I'll try and explain. You deserve to know what's going on," Greg said, taking a seat on the sofa.  
  
After a moment of hesitation, Alex sat down beside him. "Obviously, I have questions."  
  
"I bet you do," Greg said.  
  
"Are you going to answer them honestly? Because if not, I'll go home," Alex said.  
  
"Don't go home, it's way too late for that now. But I will answer you as honestly as I can. I'll do my best, but so much of it isn't really clear in my own head, I don't know how well I can explain it to someone else. But I'll try," Greg said.  
  
"Alright, what happened tonight? I knew Roisin was coming over, and I don't mind that you had sex, that's fine, but I didn't expect this. What is it, roleplay? Were you just that drunk? Or are you really a woman and couldn't bear to tell me?" Alex said.  
  
Greg didn't speak for a while, gathering his thoughts. Alex, to his credit, didn't push him. Alex reached for his hand, and gently stroked him with his thumb, content to just be present beside him as he thought about his reply. Eventually, Greg broke the silence.  
  
"It's this dress, Alex. God, I don't even know why, but I've wanted it for 20 years, and I swear, I never told anyone about it except for Roisin when we were both drunk, and for whatever reason, she decided to get it made for me. And it's _wonderful_ , Alex, like you can't imagine how much it means to have this dress after wanting it for so long. It's like I finally feel complete. I didn't know she was going to bring it tonight, though, but I'm so glad she did. The reasons why I wanted it for so long… I don't even know myself. I just knew I wanted to wear this dress. Maybe I just really want people to like me more, to not be this huge scary giant people run away from. I don't know. I don't know why I thought a dress might fix that problem, because I don't think it will. But it was never going to be a thing because I was too scared to have any dresses made for me, so I never told you. I didn't think you would mind, because it's not like I was hiding a whole extra wardrobe from you. I had nothing at all, and I've learnt to live without it. I was fine. No one needed to know, because I had no dresses to wear. But I guess now that's all changed. You must hate seeing me like this. This isn't what you want from me, is it?" Greg said, unsure he was even saying the right things, because what even were the right words in a situation like this?  
  
"Greg, listen to me, I really don't hate you or the dresses. Why are you ashamed for wanting this? You know all my kinks. In some cases, _you_ are my kinks. That's why we work together so well. That's why I want to be with you. You get me in ways no one else does," Alex said. "Were you really never going to tell me about the dresses? Why wouldn't you want me to know about this if it makes you so happy?"  
  
"Oh, why do you think? I mean, you can guess why I never told anyone this before, yeah? You know what it's like to be different, to not be enough, to be told over and over to be a certain way, even if it's not really how you want to be. You know why I never told anyone. Why would I? I'd get laughed at and mocked and, if I'd still been a kid, probably hurt pretty bad for even thinking about it. That's why I never told you, because I'm not meant to want this, I'm not meant to be like this, I'm meant to be a man, a proper man, not a queer bitch in dresses. It's too hard to admit to without feeling ashamed," Greg said, unable to stop the bitterness coming through in his voice.  
  
Alex looked up at him. "Of course, I understand. I know what you mean, and I wouldn't make you tell anyone if you didn't feel safe revealing that to them. I know it's hard, but I thought we'd agreed to be completely open with each other when we started this thing. Even if it wasn't something we wanted to do together, we told each other everything we liked. That was the point. So there were no secrets. So why didn't you tell me about this?"  
  
"I guess I just-" Greg sighed. "I never imagined it would ever be a thing, you know? I never had any women's clothes until tonight. I wasn't brave enough to have them made to fit me. They were just dreams in my head. Why would I tell you about that when it was never going to be anything? I never imagined I would ever wear this dress, I never believed it would ever happen. But then Roisin had to go and have this made for me, and now I guess you need to know. I mean, I never thought this was a thing you were into anyway, so I set it aside, like I've done all my life. No one needed to know. No one would want me like this. It was just another reason for them to hate me. It was better left in my head where no one could judge me for it."  
  
Alex brought him into a gentle hug; Greg did not pull away, but let his touch comfort him. Alex thought the dress was strange, but only because it was unfamiliar. "I don't - want you to set it aside. You're the one person who's willing to hurt me the way I need to be hurt, to feel good. If this is what you need to feel good, who am I to stop you? This relationship can't be only about my pleasure. It has to be about you too. I don't want you putting your desires aside for me because it's not something I want. Besides, how do you even know it's not something I want if you never ask? Maybe I want a Queen to serve, as well as a dad. Maybe I want to be your knight in shining armour. If you never ask, how will you know? Besides, it is a lovely colour on you, dear. You chose well. I really like it on you. It suits you really well."  
  
"Roisin chose well, but point taken. Do you really find me attractive like this? It's not like I look like a woman, you know. I mean, Roisin did have a wig and makeup done for me, but you missed all that. It's just the dress now," Greg said.  
  
Alex caught his gaze and touched his cheek. "You look like Greg, my Greg, and you'll always look beautiful to me, no matter what you're wearing."  
  
"You'd fuck me looking like this, would you? Or are you just humouring me?" Greg said.  
  
"I rather think you would fuck me looking like that, s - er, ma'am?" Alex said, quietly imagining how that might look.  
  
"It's always sir. And I'd definitely be tempted if Roisin hadn't got in first tonight. I'm spent. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?" Greg said.  
  
"Alright, maybe tomorrow. Just hold me close like a mother would. That's all I need right now," Alex said.  
  
"Oh, now we're into mother giants, are we? Well, you are a surprise, aren't you, Alex Horne?" Greg said with a grin.  
  
"Giants or giantesses, I don't mind which. It's not like you've shrunk now that you're wearing that dress. You're still my big papa bear. And, well," Alex began gently stroking his chest, feeling the soft material for himself, "it is a very lovely dress that you clearly love very much, so if you love it, then so do I."  
  
"You don't mean that. Don't like it just for my sake. I look hideous. I never wanted you to see me like this. I'm your big, strong master, not some ponce in a dress," Greg said.  
  
"You're strong enough to wear a dress for me, master. That counts for a lot, at least to me. Can I kiss you, sir?" Alex asked.  
  
Greg hesitated. "Sure, if you want."  
  
Alex shifted Greg around, and gently cupped his face as he kissed him gently. Soft, tentative kisses slowly shifted into more passionate ones, with tongues and teeth and lips and desire. Alex held him with confidence, like a man, running his hands up his side as he moved the fabric. Greg didn't think of anything. All he knew in that moment was Alex, and slowly reclining together, their arms never letting go of each other.  
  
"I should at least reward you for tonight before I tuck you into bed. Fair's fair for letting Roisin fuck me. What's your preference at this ridiculously late hour?" Greg said.  
  
Alex smiled and brushed a finger down his cheek. "All I need tonight are your hands, sir. My body is all yours."  
  
Greg responded with a kiss as he shifted him so he was sitting in his lap. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck and kept kissing him as Greg began stroking him through his trousers. Alex moved his hand down only to help undo his trousers so Greg could take hold of his cock. Alex only kissed him harder as his hand closed around him and began to stroke him.  
  
"Do you want me to eat you up, Alex? Do you want me to devour you?" Greg murmured, enjoying the way his face hid nothing from him.  
  
"Tell me what you and Roisin did. Tell me how I'm not good enough for you because you'll always go back to her. That's all I need tonight, your words, and your hands," Alex said.  
  
Greg smiled, squeezing him just a little harder to make sure he was paying attention, as he began to speed up as Alex's cock grew hard in his hand. He leaned in and moved his lips close to his ear, to whisper filth just for Alex, just for his boy, and perhaps make him cry. That would be wonderful. Just thinking about what had happened made him smile wistfully, and he grinned at the memories before he began, murmuring softly in Alex's ear as he stroked him, his pleasure entirely under his control.  
  
"Oh, do I finally get to tease you about that? Well, I did let her fuck me, Alex. You won't fuck me, but she will. She has this cock that's just right, just big enough to really satisfy me, and she pins me down and fucks me hard. God, Alex, I wish you could see her like that. It's incredible. She had a dress made for her, one like mine, and god, she looked amazing in it. She knows just how to touch me, and that fabric is just divine. She wrapped me in it, she rubbed my back with it, she wrapped it around my cock and finished me off, Alex. And she made me look beautiful, Alex, she brought me this wonderful dress, and she brought shoes, and a wig, and she did my make-up, and I don't know what I did to deserve her, Alex, because she's the most wonderful person I've ever met. She understands me, she knows what I need, and she cares for me. She listens. And she gets drunk with me, and god, the way she smiles, Alex, have you seen it? The way she smiles when she's drunk and happy and it's late and it's just us, and it's beautiful. But I really don't want you to be jealous of her, Alex, because she's not that, we're not like that. We're … I don't know what we are. Not quite a lot of things, and a whole lot of something else. But she's not you, Alex, she's not you. She's not my beautiful boy who came here tonight, even though I didn't ask him to, who loves me even in a fucking dress, who does so much work to make this show happen at all, and Christ, Alex, I can't imagine you not being here. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. And maybe I'm just tired and drunk and fucking sentimental right now, but fuck, Alex, I don't want to make you cry tonight, because I don't want you to be sad. I want you to be happy. Be happy, Alex. Let me cry tonight, because this has been the most amazing night of my life, and I get to finish it with you in my arms, bringing you all the pleasure she brought me tonight. The two people I love most are here with me, and that's all I need, Alex, that's all I need. I'll love you properly tomorrow, because you deserve it, but you wanted my hands tonight, and my voice, and I want you to come apart, Alex, let it all go, come for me darling, let me give you this much, because you fucking deserve it, Alex."  
  
Alex cried, in spite of himself, listening to Greg's words. Greg, too, found his emotions far closer to the surface than he'd anticipated, but it didn't matter. Alex held on, and Greg worked him until he came, and then Alex just wrapped his arms tightly around his neck and kissed him again, unable to speak, as his pleasure rocked through him and then slowly faded away.  
  
When Alex eventually let go and ended the kiss, Greg saw a fierce determination in Alex's tired eyes that he found completely adorable.  
  
"I really want to court you. I just want to take you away and treat you like a queen. So you can wear all the dresses you like, and look beautiful. And there'll be feasts and parties and maybe I'll be your champion and fight some knights for you and rescue a princess. I mean, we might need to buy a castle, but there's plenty of those around, yeah? Maybe there's one in Spain, just waiting for you to come and hold court there," Alex said.  
  
"That sounds lovely, Alex. Maybe there is a castle in Spain, just waiting for us to find it and love it. That's a wonderful dream to have, Alex. Hold on to it for me. I'd let you be my champion any day, love. Now, come on, I think it's time you went to bed. Roisin's already asleep in my room, though, so you'll have to take the other bed. I swear, you're about to fall asleep right here if I don't tuck you in now," Greg said.  
  
Alex offered a sleepy smile. "Sorry, Greg, it's very late, isn't it? But I do like the dress, and you should've just told me, you silly man. I'd never have hated you for it. I could never hate anything that makes you happy, darling."  
  
"You're a brat sometimes, boy, but I still love you. But enough of that. It's bedtime," Greg said as he scooped him up into his arms and carried him to his bed.  
  
Greg carefully lay him down and put him to bed, taking the time to undress him enough to sleep comfortably. He tucked him in, and kissed his forehead, whispering a soft goodnight.  
  
Alex was asleep by the time his head touched the pillow.  
  
And then, all was silence once more. Greg returned to his room, carefully took the dress off, and hung it up. He touched it one last time before he got into bed, bringing Roisin close. She roused a little at his touch, but didn't wake, and didn't hear the 'thank you' he whispered to her before he fell asleep. He was sure no moment would ever feel this wonderful.


End file.
